


The Other Side: Part Twenty Nine

by PiscesPenName



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cell Phones, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hand Jobs, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Dean and Carrie have a phone call. Carrie asserts herself.





	The Other Side: Part Twenty Nine

Carrie's cell lit up and vibrated on her bed stand at midnight. It startled her awake. She glanced at the number. It was Dean. 

She picked it up. "Dean?"

"Hey sweetheart," he said in his husky tone. 

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He replied, he hesitated. "Did I wake you up?"

She stretched out against the bed and stifled a yawn. "Kinda."

"Want me to read you a bed time story so you can go back to sleep?" He asked playfully. 

"What's wrong?" She prompted again. 

"Nothing. Just wanted to hear your voice."

She reached over and flipped on the light. "Here's my voice then...what are you up to?"

"Nothin."

She hesitated. That was like his forth nothing in 1 minute. That seemed like it definitely meant something. 

"Where are you?" She asked. 

"Michigan, finishing up a hunt."

"Is there a lot of paranormal shit in Michigan? You're like always there."

He snorted. "I think the paranormal is in Sammy's pants because he always seems to find cases near here."

"Still think he's got a girl?"

"Yeah." 

"So why aren't you finding cases in New York?" 

"Don't wanna be working when I'm with you. You're my... R&R." He quipped smoothly

She didn't say anything, her mind still fraught with worry. As if on cue he read her mind. 

"You're worrying about me. Quit worrying."

"You've never called me unless it was to say you were in town."

"I haven't?" He asked, surprised. 

"No."

"Well maybe I miss my girl. I know certain parts 

really do."

She laughed. "That would be your brain, right?"

"Well, um, he kinda thinks for me sometimes, so...yeah. Sure."

"At least you admit it."

"I used to get an earful from Sam about it all the time..." he paused. "You think about me when I'm not there?"

"Always."

"If something happens to me..."

Her heart dropped. "I don't want to hear that! Stop it. Nothing is going to happen to you." There was silence on the other line, as if he were chastened. "Dean you're freaking me out a little." She sat up. 

"I'll let you go back to sleep."

"No! I'm not going to be able to sleep now that I'm worried."

"I didn't know I was gonna worry you being normal and like calling to say 

"

She felt her heart sink. "It's not that it's..." she took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he needed. "Do you just want to hear me talk?"

"Yeah."

"I miss you." She told him. "I think about your arms wrapped around me all the time. And your smile."

"My dick?"

She laughed. "Sometimes he makes an appearance in my dreams, yes."

"Funny because your boobs ALWAYS make an appearance in mine."

"I'm not overly surprised." Carrie cleared her throat. "Although I would have guessed you to be more of an ass man."

"Can I be both?" His tone was mischievous and she sensed she was on the right track with cheering him up. 

"Which one catches your eye first?"

"Depends on if she's coming or going." 

Carrie laughed. "What did you notice about me first?"

"Oh... that ass, baby." His voice had dropped an octave into that sound that made her knees turn to jelly. "You were wearing some real nice jeans..." he paused and she heard him swig a drink of something. She guessed beer. "What did you notice about me first?"

"Your face."

"Chicks are so boring." He cleared his throat. "Besides my face."

Carrie sorted through her first impressions. "I think your broad shoulders. But I kinda like that ass and those bowlegs. I really like the bowlegs."

"Really?" He sounded surprised. 

"Yeah. Why are you shocked?" 

"I dunno. I guess I didn't realize that chicks liked guys legs."

"Nice legs I do for sure...I mean it's not the first thing I notice usually but I like them. We definitely all check out asses."

He laughed and it sounded delighted. "And you all like to pretend that looks don't matter."

"Oh they matter."

"Size matters too."

She laughed. "I can't attest to that due to lack of experience.  I know too big would matter for me." She cringed. "Like a lot. "

"I wonder if I'm too big for you." He said it like it never occurred to him. "Wonder if it'd hurt less if I was smaller."

"Dean your finger hurts if it's the wrong day. Don't go there."

"I'm a bit bigger than average."

"It's fine. I want YOU."

"Okay. Okay. Not gonna argue."

"What's your favorite position?" She asked to distract him. 

"Mmm. Woman on top." He said without hesitation. 

"Really?" She's asked, surprised. 

"Yeah," he replied. His voice deepening. "What's not to like? Great view. Easy reach and I can lay back and relax."

"I never thought of it that way." She said. 

"I like it when a woman takes charge. It's sexy as hell."

She blushed even though he was on the other end of the phone line. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. Nothing sexier than a girl who knows what she wants."

"Well that's kinda opposite me I'm afraid."

"You give me glimpses of what you want. You're learning, baby…” His voice dropped into a purr again. “What about you? What's your favorite thing we've tried?"

She paused. "I...I'm not sure."

"Yes you are. Come on..."

She replayed their interactions in her mind, images of herself tangled in various positions with Dean. His full lips, his soulful green eyes. "I don't know..." she bit her lip. "Missionary? I guess."

"Boring."

"Boring? Dean!"

"Okay, okay don't get your panties in a twist."

She went quiet for a moment. Her old insecurities sneaking back in. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What's wrong?” He asked. “What'd I say? I'm just teasin’.” 

“Nothing.” 

He snorted. “Oh, see when a chick says nothing she always means something.” 

“I...I can't possibly be a good lay.” 

“What?” 

“I just don't know what I'm doing and you can't be rough with me. Or even normal with me.” She felt a little panic ease in. 

“Hey you're worth the effort, okay. Just trust me.“ She fell quiet for a second and Dean's tone grew firm. “Hey. You knock that shit off, you hear me?” 

“What shit?”

“That insecurity crap. You are freaking smoking hot. And you're so goddamned tight...it's like banging a virgin every time.” 

She didn't know why but she suddenly wanted to cry. 

"I can't even think about you without getting hard."

That caught her attention and made her feel better. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wish you'd believe me one of these days."

She swallowed. "Aren't you insecure about anything?"

"Nah" he replied with his usual bluster. He heard the silence on the other end and called her bluff again.  “Knock it off. I can FEEL you bring insecure over there.” 

She was too. Her thoughts had drifted to the old worn loop in her head. He was only with her for sex. Now she found herself wondering if he only liked her for her tight pelvic floor muscles. 

“Carrie…” he told her in his smoky voice. “Stop baby. Whatever you're worrying about...stop.” 

She cleared her throat. “I'm sorry. My mind just goes on these tangents.” 

“Hey honey. Stay with me.” He whispered, his tone gone soft again. 

“I'm with you.” 

“Okay.” He took another drink. “Tell me about your week.”

Carrie couldn't hide the shock in her voice. “My week?”

“Yeah. You know. What you did. Where you went. How many prostate exams you gave.” She could hear the smile in his voice. 

“I don't give those. The doctor does.” 

“Oh really. You seemed pretty practiced at findin mine.” 

Carrie felt herself blush. “Well because I watch him do it. I'm...Dean are you trying to torture me?”

“Absolutely.” 

“It's working.” She told him about her mundane life until he seemed to get tired. 

 

She talked to him until he started to doze. She wished him a good night and he hung up. 

Dean showed up a couple of days later.  Carrie, as always, was overjoyed to see him. He looked better, was moving okay. Loose and confident, as was his habit. 

"Hi sexy." His mouth curved into a smile. Those plush pouty lips sent a tingle down her spine. He slipped off his green jacket and tossed it onto her coat rack. It missed and pooled on the floor. He shrugged and turned back to her. 

"Dean." She hugged him and he gathered her up into his arms, warm and solid.

"Are you okay?" She asked into his shoulder. 

"Huh?" She felt him touch his nose to the top of her head. He kissed her there gently. 

"Your injuries."

"Yeah I'm fine. Shoulder doesn't even bother me unless I move it weird."

"I've used most of my vacation days and I have to work tomorrow." She told him. 

"That's okay, baby. I can hang here while you're gone." 

She tipped her head up to give him a kiss. "I..." she told him. "Have been dreaming about your body all week." 

She saw the interest and satisfaction light up in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, tugging him along by the hand. He followed gamely. 

"I've wanted to put my hands on you for weeks." She continued. 

"That sounds nice," he replied in his low purring voice.

She led him into the bedroom and turned around to face him. He cupped the back of her head in his hand for a moment and looked like he was going to kiss her. 

Carrie slipped the button on Dean's jeans, drew the zipper down and shoved her hand under the waistband. 

His green eyes went wide with surprise. He barely had time to register what she was doing before she took hold of him. 

Dean inhaled sharply with an audible half chuckle, half moan. "Damn!" He whispered.  

She ran her thumb over the coronal ridge. Carrie gave him another squeeze and the groan caught in his throat in a choked "mmmphf. Ugh."

The blood was rapidly rushing south and he was responding to her touch within seconds.

She pressed him back with her body and he yielded to her, stepping back until his knees hit the edge of her bed. "You're..." he inhaled again. 

Carrie couldn't get enough of grabbing him. Something about the texture of him growing firmer in her hand shot excitement through her and the satisfaction of having him slightly off balance with her behavior gave her a naughty little thrill. 

She squeezed again and he rose up on his toes and folded over her for a moment, his face almost pained as he shifted to regain his equilibrium. 

She rubbed over his urethral opening and a damp warmth spilled out of him onto the pads of her fingers.  

Dean was trembling a little, trying to keep his feet with her pulling, pushing and kneading him. 

"Honey." He reached a hand out to catch himself against the wall before he lost his balance completely. 

Carrie grinned, still feeling a little heady with the control she had over him. She snaked her hand in deeper to cup his balls and Dean moaned, closing his legs against her wrist reflexively. 

"Oh god," he growled still holding onto the wall with one hand, the other crushing her to him. 

Carrie shifted her ministrations to the sensitive spot behind his balls. She could just reach it with her finger tips. He gasped and his pants fell down his legs to pool around his ankles.  

He jumped under her touch, almost rising to his toes. And his thighs closed on her wrist once more, seeking to contain the sensation. "Carrie..." he panted. She slid her hand forward, feeling him gently and then her hand was back on his shaft, which was tenting his boxer briefs in a way that almost looked painful. 

His grip on her tightened and he let his weight fall back on the bed, dragging her with him. She went with a yell and fell on top of him. 

He crushed his lips to hers and she paused in teasing his penis as her heart sped up. She wasn't sure she wanted him to respond to her with the enthusiasm she was using for him.  

She squirmed away from him a little and Dean got the hint. His eyes were wide and his face was so flushed he looked sunburned. "What's wrong?" He asked. 

She pushed his shoulder down on the mattress. "Let me be in charge."

He instantly leaned back, melting into the mattress. "You got it, baby. Do what you want."

Carrie hooked her fingers in the band of his underwear and pulled it down. His erection caught on the elastic band before she freed him. 

She leaned over and grabbed a couple of pumps of hand lotion from her dispenser by the bed and rubbed it on him. 

Dean watched her for a moment until she started to work him in earnest and then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. She kept at him for a while. He squirmed, his face taking on a delicious expression that seemed like pleasure verged on pain. He moaned underneath her touch, his breath coming in irregular pants. 

Then one thing Carrie did have experience in with the other men she'd dated was hand jobs. She gave a pretty decent one and the way she moved her fingers and twisted her palm along his shaft made him gasp and shiver. She straddled his thighs and her left hand joined in the teasing, drifting low and seeking his balls. She held them in her palm and he bucked into her with a yelp. 

“Come on, handsome.” She told him. “Let go.” 

She could feel how tense he was. Knew she was dangling him close to the edge. She slid her hand back a little farther to his perineum and pumped in with her index finger. 

Dean cried out loudly and she felt his penis spasm in her palm as he climaxed. The waves came over him in several successions. He spilled himself over her fingers but she kept her hands on him until he'd ridden out the last of his orgasm. She squeezed once and let go, reaching for a tissue to clean herself and then tenderly, him, with. She wadded it and tossed it aside and cuddled up to him. 

“You need me to…” He was starting to reach drunkenly for her thighs.

“No,” she said. 

“That was…” he was still breathing a little heavily. “What got into you?’

Carrie looked up at him and grinned slyly. 

He returned her smile. “Look at you all beautiful and innocent looking.”

“Lies.” She giggled. “It's all lies.” She dotted the line of his jaw with little butterfly kisses.  “Hope you don't mind me being forward.” 

“Mind?” he asked lazily. “It's freaking awesome. Now…” he pulled her almost on top of him. “You just gotta cowgirl up later on and ride me like a horse you're trying to break.” 

She laughed. “Such vivid imagery.” 

“Ride me into the ground, baby. PreferabIy  with nothing but a cowboy hat.” 

“I don't have one.” 

“Damn.” He snapped his fingers. “You got boobs though. I'll be pretty happy with those, hat or no hat.” 

 


End file.
